So Near, So Far
by ellenoz
Summary: Stranded and badly injured, Sheppard struggles to hold on long enough for rescue. *IN PERMANENT HIATUS*
1. Chapter 1

**_SO NEAR, SO FAR._**

The Atlantis gate room was quiet, given that it was well after midnight and most of the city was soundly sleeping. Only one technician worked the control consoles, with the minimum security contingent of two heavily armed marines standing silent guard. Not that Rodney McKay saw any of this as he exited the wormhole behind Ronan and Teyla. He appeared to perform a clumsy pirouette as he came through the gate, so that he now stood facing the shimmering event horizon.

Rodney usually made a bee line straight to the lab, infirmary or shower, depending on what type of mission it had been. But now he just continued to stand there in front of the gate, and although he was drenched with sweat and feeling pretty damned uncomfortable, he wasn't going anywhere just yet. He was momentarily confused, trying to sort through what he thought he'd glimpsed from the corner of his eye as he entered the off world gate. He wiped the perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand, dropped his pack to the floor and waited for the familiar flicker signaling an arrival; in this case, either the last person to leave the planet, or the MALP they'd sent through days ago to monitor weather conditions on M3X-141.

Or more appropriately, "Sauna Hell", as Rodney had come to call it over the course of the day. They'd timed the mission to coincide with the cooler morning hours but had found the planet uninhabited for a thousand good reasons … number one being the killer humidity; number two the killer wildlife; and number three the completely depleted, useless piece of crap ZPM.

"McKay. What are you doing?"

Rodney ignored Ronan's question, even as the big man moved closer to stand beside him. Sheppard had been slightly to McKay's right and only a step or two behind when Rodney had caught a flash of movement and a weird whooshing noise from Sheppard's position. He'd tried to turn around, but it was too late, Rodney was already being swallowed by the wormhole. In that last split second he may or may not have heard John utter a surprised grunt of pain as well. Rodney couldn't be sure.

Touching the radio in his ear, Rodney called, "Sheppard?"

Teyla's voice sounded somewhere behind him. "Rodney, is there a problem? Where is Colonel Sheppard?"

Rodney's concern was ratcheting up at lightning speed. Still no sign of John Sheppard coming through the gate, and no reply on the radio to say he was still on '141 either. He yelled over his shoulder at the gate technician, "You registering an incoming traveler?"

"No signal yet, sir."

The gate remained open, yet ominously still.

Then a crackle sounded in Rodney's ear, followed by the sound of rapid breathing. Sheppard panted, "Rodney, I'm in trouble here."

Big trouble, if the raw agony in Sheppard's voice was anything to go by.

"What's going on?" Rodney asked, but all he could hear was Sheppard's irregular breathing turning into a long, deep throated groan. Rodney immediately spun around and sprinted towards the control area. Once he was at the main console, he pushed the technician aside and began typing commands.

"Something's wrong. I've put Sheppard on open comm." Rodney moved to another keyboard and continued to work quickly. "And we should have MALP imagery … now."

Ronan and Teyla had not been not far behind, and they now moved closer to the computer screen. The camera was pointed away from the gate, so the only thing to be seen was a wall of rainforest vegetation, but they could all hear the sound of Sheppard's ragged breathing as the control room speakers came to life. Rodney paused for a second, swallowed the lump in his throat, then focused on repositioning the MALP.

Teyla said, "John, can you hear me? Can you tell us what is happening?"

Sheppard answered almost immediately, his voice low, words clipped. "Triggered the mother of all booby traps. Can't get . . ." The sentence finished on a rush of expelled air, as if whatever measure of control Sheppard had summoned to speak had suddenly evaporated.

"You can't get through the gate, John?" Teyla asked urgently.

As Rodney turned the MALP in a tight semi-circle, vision of a straight row of metal spikes jutting up from the gate platform appeared on screen, standing about half a meter high and spaced closely together. The pointed tips looked brutally sharp. As the MALP spun a little further, Sheppard came into view. His upper body was leaning forward, his head was down, and one arm was stretched out to the side, supporting his weight against the lower curve of the stargate. Sheppard's left leg was angled behind him, while the other leg was twisted awkwardly at the knee. Something was very wrong with the position of that front leg…

Rodney realised what he was looking at. His throat incredibly tight, he heard himself saying, "Oh … God."

A bloodied spike protruded from Sheppard's right leg. Rodney forced himself to look closer. It had entered through the back of John's knee, then up and out his lower thigh.

Ronan was immediately in motion, heading back towards the gate. "Shut it down. I'm going through."

On screen, Sheppard turned his head, looked straight at the camera and shouted, "No! Keep the gate open!" With the order given, he bit down on his bottom lip and screwed his eyes shut. Sheppard's face, already pale from shock, drained of all color. The arm he was using to brace himself with began to tremble against the gate.

Teyla spoke before Rodney could begin to explain the situation he'd only just come to fully comprehend himself.

"Colonel Sheppard cannot move away from the gate, Ronon. There is no way he could avoid the new wormhole forming if we should try to go through to help."

Yep, Rodney thought. That about summed it up. And then came another thought, that if he'd opened his mouth just then there was absolutely no way he could have said those words so calmly. And he wouldn't have said those words anyway. More likely he would have come out with something like, Sheppard is the proverbial deer in the headlights, Conan. Kawoosh equals obliterated colonel, get it?

Rodney scrubbed his face with his hands, then pointed at the marine closest to him. "You and your buddy go get Weir and Beckett. Tell them I'll explain everything when they get here."


	2. Chapter 2

**_SO NEAR, SO FAR._**

Eleven minutes had elapsed since Rodney stepped off Sauna World, and the gate room was now fully lit and operational. Overhead in the jumper bay a rescue team was busily being readied with Major Lorne in charge of operations. Meanwhile Rodney had identified the closest stargate to '141 and was pulling up information to estimate travel time. Sheppard was not going to last long. If the shock didn't kill him, the weather would. That's if he didn't pass out first. Rodney tried not to think about one of those big jungle cats helping itself to a colonel kebab. He glanced up from his work for a second. Carson Beckett and Elizabeth Weir were silently staring at the live MALP feed on the computer screen beside him. Both of them looked thoroughly horrified, but Weir especially seemed to be having trouble believing her eyes. Further away, Ronon was pacing back and forth in front of the gate. Teyla was standing to one side, speaking softly, but true to form, Ronon was not dealing with the whole being helpless thing. Some inanimate object was going to get punched, kicked or launched into orbit very soon.

Come to think of it, Rodney couldn't see his backpack down there anymore. No doubt he'd be searching for it somewhere on the other side of the room later. If the life signs detector in there was damaged, Ronan would be hearing all about it. However, in the interests of self preservation, Rodney would just make sure he was at the opposite end of the city when he said it.

Elizabeth was talking, Rodney realised. She looked a second or two away from losing her dinner.

"Why would anyone put something like that in front of a gate?"

Rodney contemplated pretending that he still wasn't listening. On the scale of stupid questions, it ranked top ten. Data was beginning to fill the screen in front of him, so he answered as he studied it. "We found ruins and other evidence of simple technology. Meaning whoever used to live there installed a very primitive version of a gate shield."

It also explained the fluctuating power signal that had registered when Rodney first exited the gate on '141. He couldn't explain it then, but now realized it was the shield trying to deploy. Fortunately it had failed to activate. Unfortunately it found enough juice at exactly the wrong time for Sheppard.

Beckett shook his head in disgust. "It's the most barbaric thing I've ever seen!"

Great. The master of stating the glaringly obvious was on the job. Rodney stared at Beckett, but declined to pass comment. Instead he left Weir and the witch doctor to do whatever they thought they had to do, while he went back to the actual work of saving the day. But he did keep an ear on the conversation as it continued beside him.

"Colonel Sheppard, this is Elizabeth. Can you hear me?"

Sheppard was slower to respond this time. "Yeah, I can Elizabeth."

"We're going to help you, John. But as you know, the Daedalus is currently on Earth, so it may take a little more time than we'd like to get a jumper to you."

"Figured that out already," Sheppard said. "Step on the gas, okay? I'm feeling a little weird here."

Only John Sheppard would say something like that, Rodney thought. Skewered on an alien defence system, leg snapped above the knee, and the temperature climbing past forty degrees Celsius. Sheppard was probably saving feeling really weird for when the wildlife attacked.

"John, its Carson here. I can see the spike has passed through your leg close to the knee. Rodney tells me you think your femur is broken and you've administered ten milligrams of morphine. How is the pain? You may need to inject another ten."

"Negative, Doc. I'm trying not to pass out. Leg's definitely broken. I tried to pull myself off the damned thing when it first happened. It's through the bone."

"Okay, avoid moving as much as possible to minimize the pain and bleeding. Do you have any water left? You need to keep hydrated."

"Drank the last of it about twenty minutes ago."

"That's okay, son. We'll be with you as soon as is humanly possible." Beckett tapped his earpiece to disconnect and turned to look at McKay. "Rodney, its imperative we get to Colonel Sheppard within the hour. The nature of his injury coupled with the weather conditions could prove fatal in very short order."

"Yes, Carson, I understand the urgency of the situation, thank you very much. There's a space gate above a neighboring planet …" Rodney waited for the final information to load. His stomach sank. "Eleven hours, best time," he quietly informed.

Beckett's head dropped.

Elizabeth put a hand on Rodney's shoulder. "There must be something else we can do." She pointed down at the activated gate. "He's just there, a few seconds away."

A couple of seconds, a couple of thousand light years. Rodney leaned across to look at the live screen and tapped his radio. Sheppard was in much the same position as before, only his pack was open and some of the contents were strewn in front of the gate.

"Sheppard. We'll have to close down this wormhole to send a jumper through. Good news is, there's a gate close by, relatively speaking. Bad news is … it's going to take a little while."

Sheppard didn't lift his head to speak. "Define a little while, Rodney." He sounded even more breathless.

"We'll be there three, maybe four hours after sun set."

There was a good few seconds of silence before Sheppard responded.

"Understood."


	3. Chapter 3

**_SO NEAR, SO FAR._**

Sheppard knew he couldn't stay on his feet much longer. The sun was climbing higher in the sky, and the temperature was headed in the same direction. He was extremely lightheaded, and the pain was shorting out his thinking processes, especially when his thigh muscle contracted around the spike and made the ends of shattered bone move around, push into nerve endings. He was nauseous and sweat was running freely down his back and his legs, so heat fatigue would soon be a problem. When he did finally keel over, it wasn't going to be pretty. With his knee immobilized and the bone broken above it, falling down would most likely compound the fracture. The broken bone would be forced out through the surrounding flesh, and the bleeding would begin in earnest.

When the jumper finally arrived, it wouldn't be a rescue, it would be body recovery duty. On the plus side, Atlantis would be closing the gate down very soon, so he wouldn't have to die via live transmission. Although the thought of watching a dark and useless gate in front of him for any length of time was going to be a hard pill to swallow. If he could only take a few steps he'd be home.

There was another alternative. The thought had been growing in his mind for the last few minutes.

Sheppard cleared his throat. "Beckett?"

The doctor answered straight away. "Yes, John?"

"I need to talk to you privately."

It wasn't long before Beckett responded again, "Go ahead, John. It's just you and me on the line."

"Doc, you and I both know I'm not going to be alive by the time that jumper gets here. So …" Sheppard paused, swallowed. Saying what he planned to do brought the idea one step closer to reality. His head spun and he tried to breath deeper.

Beckett's voice cut through the fog. "John?"

Forced himself to focus, Sheppard continued, "So, I intend to amputate. I want you to tell me how to do it, and what to expect."

There was a period of silence, then, "John, do you understand what you're saying, son?"

Tears sprung in Sheppard's eyes as his mangled thigh muscle coiled and released, and he was surprised to hear himself laughing. There was a certain level of crazy in there, so he fought to get his voice leveled out as he spoke again.

"I've got no water and another seven hours of sunlight. I'm on the verge of blacking out and when I do, my leg will snap in two. There's animal life back there in the jungle …"

"Okay, okay," Beckett soothed. "Save your strength, John. I'll talk you through the procedure. You'll have to use your belt as a tourniquet. What size knife do you have?"

"It'll do the job."

Using his left hand, John undid his buckle and began to shakily slide the belt through the loops of his waistband. For the moment he kept his right hand firmly planted against the gate. He'd be using it soon enough to do the cutting, and he could only hope that his left leg would hold him up long enough to get the job done.

He was distracted by the MALP as it began reversing away from him. Before he had a chance to open his mouth, Beckett informed, "Rodney says to give him a minute."

John wondered how Rodney knew what he was about to do. Then he realised he would've been listening to Beckett's side of the conversation. "Put me back on speaker, Carson." John paused for a few seconds, then said, "McKay?"

"You cannot be serious." Rodney sounded more than a little outraged.

"I'm out of options, Rodney." John watched the MALP as it moved slowly across the platform. The camera was pointed low at the base of the row of spikes as it went. "What are you doing?"

The machine stopped at the far side of the gate. Rodney answered, "Giving you a choice. You carrying any C4?"

"You know I am. But I'd rather cut my leg off than blow it off."

"Funny," Rodney said flatly. "There's about a five centimeter gap here where the last upright rises out of the platform. I'm thinking that's where the power source is located. A small blast down there might be enough to retract the device into its casing."

Sheppard couldn't see how that was going to help him. "Yeah, but I'm way over here, Rodney."

A four pronged claw extended from the front of the MALP and bent back over the top of the machine. It seemed to be waving at Sheppard.

"And people dared to question me when I modified all the MALP's. Eighteen minutes left on the clock. Your call, Sheppard."

John didn't need any thinking time. He snapped open the pocket on the side of his vest and removed the small block of explosive from inside. "We'll need about eight ounces."

The MALP sped over and stopped by Sheppard's back leg. He drew a deep breath and removed his right hand from the gate. His leg moved fractionally as his body adjusted to the new position, and the pain skyrocketed. Loud buzzing filled his ears and his vision blurred.

"Sheppard. Sheppard!"

John spat against a rising wave of nausea. "Still here." He broke the block of C4 in two, passed half down to the waiting claw and returned the other half to his pocket. He carefully leaned his weight against the gate again, breathing hard. The machine sped off and Sheppard watched Rodney expertly maneuver the flexible extension through the small space to tightly pack down the plastic explosive. Once that was completed, the MALP reversed back over to him. It reminded Sheppard of a dog fetching a stick. He stared at Rover for a second or two before Rodney said, none too patiently, "Sheppard, I need you to concentrate. Throw the rest of the C4 through the gate, and give me a blast cap."

Sheppard fumbled his left hand into the opposite pocket and produced the cap. Once he'd passed it down, he pulled out the unused explosive and flung it through the wormhole. He then reached back in his pocket and brought out the electronic detonator.

Rodney said, "I'd tell you to take cover, but…"

Sheppard thought McKay's voice sounded fairly composed, given the circumstances. "It's cool, Rodney. Thanks."

The MALP moved even further away this time, backing right off the platform. When Rodney had it positioned at a relatively safe distance, he said, "Thank me when you're back on this side and in one piece."

Sheppard heard Elizabeth say, "We're ready when you are, John. Good luck."

John bent forward as far he could manage, put both arms over his head and called out, "Clear!"

He closed his eyes and pushed the button.

And screamed as he was blown upwards and off the spike. Everything turned white and strangely silent. He was aware of moving quickly up through the air before he came down again, his head and shoulder slamming hard into the ground. His body tumbled and his broken leg collided into something. The world blinked out.


	4. Chapter 4

**_SO NEAR, SO FAR._**

**_by ellenoz_**

**Chapter 4**

The explosion was big. Debris spun though the Atlantis wormhole in a large billow of dust and grit. The area in front of the gate had been hastily cleared while Rodney was setting the charge, but the shock wave was significant, travelling as far as the control area. When Rodney dared lift his head from the console to look sideways, he saw Ronan with his back turned, shielding Teyla with his body. Beckett was helping Weir to her feet, but both appeared unharmed, although a little shaken. A quick glance around told him everyone else appeared to be okay and all the equipment within eyeshot seemed to be up and functioning too.

Weir had been keen to close the shield to block the blast until Rodney had pointed out the very real possibility that the concussive force could throw Sheppard through the wormhole. He'd made a point of saying that it seemed a shame to go to so much trouble trying to save Sheppard's ass, only to end up splattering him like a bug all over a windshield in the process. From there, it hadn't taken much effort to convince her that the chance of blowing someone or something up this side of the gate was fairly minor in comparison. Then he'd mentally crossed his fingers and tried to ignore the growing fear in the pit of his stomach.

There was an art to estimating how much explosive to use for each and every situation, and Sheppard usually got it right nine times out of ten. But Sheppard's brain had been running on fumes when he'd handed over the C4, and with the slim chance of causing a secondary explosion, Rodney had no choice but to make John throw the unused portion of explosive through the gate. So there would be no trial run, just a single chance to get it right, and Sheppard's life was forfeit if Rodney screwed up. However, it was the nagging thought that the C4 could combine with whatever was powering the alien shield to magnify the plastic explosive's effect that had become Rodney's ulcer-creating concern. Judging by the clean up that was already under way in front of the Atlantis gate, that's exactly what had happened. And now Rodney felt like throwing up. Sheppard's chances of survival were looking shakier by the second.

Elizabeth, as always, was oblivious to the weight on his mind. She smiled grimly and gave Rodney a short nod to acknowledge they'd avoided disaster by the skin of their teeth again, but he really wasn't paying attention to her anymore. The MALP had incurred some level of damage because it wasn't responding to any of his commands. As he furiously started to initiate a work around to override the MALP's main systems, Weir began calling to Sheppard, trying to re-establish radio contact.

Through some stroke of luck the camera was still transmitting. Teyla and Ronon moved in closer to Weir and Beckett and everyone immediately turned their full attention to the live screen once more. As the dust cleared on '141, the scene slowly settled on a tilted view of ground and sky. In the bottom right hand corner, the edge of the gate platform was the only thing visible. Between the dirt, grass and that one small section of flat, dark stone there wasn't much of a story being told. Rodney stopped what he was doing, balled his hands into fists and somehow resisted the urge to smash the keyboard into submission.

Obviously the MALP was no longer upright. Since he was having absolutely no success in repositioning the camera either, it was safe to say the machine was as good as dead.

Beside him, a measure of desperation was growing in Weir's voice. "John, this is Elizabeth. If you can hear me, please respond."

Rodney shook his head. "He was less than five metres from detonation point. His ear drums are probably blown, so I'd give up if I were you."

Beckett took the opportunity to agree. "John will be quite heavily stunned, if he's even conscious at the moment."

At the beginning of this whole disaster, Rodney had set his wrist watch to countdown function. As he glanced down at his watch again, the numbers seemed to speed up just to spite him.

Four minutes, thirty nine seconds of life left in the wormhole.

Elizabeth took her hand away from her earpiece and looked at Rodney with that all too familiar grim-but-stoic expression on her face. "Do you think it's safe to close the gate down and dial up again at this point, Rodney?"

Rodney was never one to count to ten. Hell, he'd be lucky to get to two if he ever tried. He threw his hands into the air, pushed his chair back from the console, stood up, looked down at the gate and the stagnant event horizon, then sat back down. Elizabeth's question deserved the correct answer, and there were no prizes for guessing that he didn't have one. He ran his hands down his face then dropped his arms to his sides.

Ronan looked like he was about to do the same thing to Rodney that he'd done to the backpack. Teyla's eyebrows seem to be saying, 'Rodney, we are depending on you.'

Rodney made a mental note to eat and drink something in the next five minutes. Low blood sugar was not something to be fooled around with.

"Sheppard would make contact if he was able to." Rodney could see that everyone was thinking what he was thinking, so he didn't elaborate further on that particular train of thought. "And there's no way to be certain he's clear of the gate." If they dialed up again and Sheppard was lying injured anywhere in front of the gate, the wormhole could possibly kill him. If somehow he was still stuck on the spike, the wormhole would definitely kill him. Hell, Rodney thought, Sheppard was probably in a thousand or so pieces already, so what was he waiting for? Was he expecting Sheppard to limp through the gate, dust himself off and smile stupidly at them?

"Shut it down. Get the medical team through."

Ronon chose that moment to let loose a few Satedan swear-words. He'd been leaning over in front of the live screen, but now he took off towards the gate at full pace bellowing, "Shut it and dial up. NOW!" He had his blaster in his hands. Suddenly, Teyla was running after him as well.

Rodney had a fleeting thought that his team mates had instantaneously and simultaneously lost their marbles when he heard Beckett say, "Ohhhh crap!"

Beckett was pointing at the screen, directing Rodney to look. So Rodney did.

For a second he couldn't work out what he was looking at. Where before there'd only been earth and sky, now two long black shapes almost obscured the camera lens. Legs, Rodney finally realised.

Time to feel really weird.

The wildlife had arrived.


	5. Chapter 5

**SO NEAR, SO FAR.**

**Summary**

McKay dubbed the planet "Sauna Hell". Sheppard may think of a few other names to call it if he survives the experience.

**Author's note**

This is an expansion of a small fic written for kriadydragon's Gen Comment-a-thon at Sheppard H/C. The prompt was "Touch". Specific request by Linziday will appear at the end of the story. That's still some way off, so thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. Your feedback and patience is much appreciated.

**Chapter 5**

Ronon didn't wait for the go signal. The final chevron locked on the Atlantis gate and he ran into the barely settled wormhole, bursting through the event horizon and into the blanketing heat of M3X141 seconds later. The previously smooth platform had sustained heavy damage, especially where McKay had set the charge, and Ronon fought to keep his balance as he came to a stop on the uneven surface. The pattern of interlocking stones was now mostly rubble, dotted with a few mangled metal spikes that appeared to have blasted completely free of the device. But it wasn't anything in the immediate area of destruction that drew Ronon's urgent attention. A flash of movement over near the tree line to his right had him squinting against the intense glare of the sun. Ronon's heart thumped with a surge of adrenalin.

At a distance of roughly fifty meters, a huge jungle cat was violently ripping something apart.

Sprinting forward, Ronon leveled his blaster at the animal's center mass. But the ground was rough and the distance was long … his first two shots sprayed wide and did absolutely nothing to deter the frenzied attack. Ronon howled, took aim without slowing down, and pulled the trigger again and again. The cat roared, reared up on its hind legs and fell to the ground, twitching. As the body stilled, Ronon approached cautiously, then stopped. He cursed as he finally saw what the animal had been tearing to pieces.

Sheppard's back pack was destroyed. His wet weather gear was spread across the ground, shredded into long, black ribbons. A few other stray items were scattered about. A roll of tape, socks, flashlight … Ronon continued to scan the area. There was nothing else, no sign of Sheppard himself.

A sudden, short burst of gun fire jerked Ronon's head up and he looked back towards the stargate. He was surprised to see the wormhole had shut down, but even weirder than that was the gate itself. The whole thing seemed to be tilted slightly backwards. Ronon didn't take time to think what all that meant. Teyla was on the other side of the ruined platform, her P90 pointed out in front, and he began to run towards her. The terrain over there looked rougher, overgrown with large clumps of tall purple grass and bushes covered in dark red flowers, and the curved line of jungle wasn't all that far from the gate.

Teyla was pacing steadily towards the vine covered trees. She glanced back at him and shouted, "Ronon, quickly!"

Leaves and dirt kicked up as Teyla released another round of controlled fire, and Ronon caught sight of what she was shooting at. Another cat, smaller than the first, was crouched low amongst the cover of foliage. The cat's jaws were clamped tightly around one of Sheppard's boots, and the animal was slowly inching backwards, dragging him with it. There was no sign of resistance or independent movement from Sheppard, but Ronon refused to believe that the man he owed his life to could possibly be dead. And as bad as the situation might be, the cat didn't have Sheppard in a kill grip … its teeth weren't sunk into his neck. Ronon took the luck that was on offer, and ran harder as Teyla fired a sequence of single shots.

The cat stopped moving. It let go of Sheppard, but kept its head down low and its body flat, growling menacingly.

Ronon knew Teyla couldn't get a clear shot without the risk of hitting Sheppard too, so for now she was positioning herself while keeping the animal pinned down. Meanwhile, he'd covered a lot of ground and was almost within firing range. Ronon prepared himself to shoot. This time the first shot would kill. He would not miss.

. . . . . . . . . .

The first hazy thought that came to Sheppard as he regained awareness was water. He wanted water. And he wanted to stop the noise. Ringing. Loud in his ears. Vibrating all over his skull, through his teeth.

Was he supposed to be somewhere? He blinked his eyes open. The sunlight stabbed, made his head hurt, so he shut them again. He was lying on his side and he could taste dirt and blood in his mouth. He tried to move. Instant, breath taking pain erupted along the entire length of his body. Blackness closed in, but somehow he hung on. Told himself that help was coming, but didn't know whether he was lying or not.

Static played in his head and the pain rippled, ready to ignite if he so much as breathed too deeply. But something else was very wrong. Sheppard sensed danger, some type of immediate threat. He might be dying, but his radar was still working, and it was going off big time, screaming at him to move. Adrenalin brought John's eyes open and he lifted his head off the ground by a scant inch.

His vision doubled, slid sideways, and gradually settled.

His right leg was twisted over his left. His pants were ripped and bloody, and he thought he could see white bone through the torn fabric above his knee. The bottom clip on his thigh holster was undone, and it had ridden up and slipped around … he could feel the butt of his gun against his backside. His eyes tracked a little further. An animal was down by his feet. Big black head, wild yellow eyes studying him. Cat, he realised. Its mouth was open and its teeth were very long.

Sheppard was pretty sure he was hallucinating. But if he wasn't …

Breathing shallowly, he began easing his right arm over his body. Sharp pain flared in his side and leg and he couldn't stop himself groaning. But he froze as the cat creased its nose in anger. Through the constant buzz in his ears, Sheppard could hear a long, low growl. He needed that gun in his hands, now. Throwing caution to the wind he went for it as quickly as he could, and a few things happened all at once. The cat jumped up on all fours as Sheppard pulled the weapon and tried to lift it to shoot. A P90 erupted somewhere very nearby and blood spurted from the animal's neck. Then it was blown off its feet, hit by stunner blasts of fiery red.

It fell to the ground dead.

The relief was overwhelming. Sheppard dropped his head and arm back to the ground and tried to breath through the pain. He was shaking and sick and the sunlight was bright in his eyes, but he didn't want to close them yet. His team was here, they were coming for him. He smiled when Teyla dropped to her knees in front of him seconds later. She leant over him, blocking the glare, and put a hand to the side of his face. Her lips moved, but he didn't hear what she said. He could guess though.

Sheppard didn't have the energy to say much, but he managed to at least get two words out. "Hey. Thanks."

Teyla looked like she might be crying, but Sheppard couldn't say for sure. He knew he was close to passing out, but he continued to fight hard to stay with her. He might not know where he was, but he wanted to hear her say they were going home. Instead he slowly realised that she was speaking to someone situated behind him. Sheppard tried to roll onto his back to see who it was, but didn't quite make it before the lights went out.


	6. Chapter 6

**SO NEAR, SO FAR.**

**Summary**

Teyla and Ronon got back to "Sauna Hell" in time to save Sheppard from a nasty demise, but will they be able to complete the rescue?

**Chapter 6**

When laying down the initial gunfire, Teyla had quickly discovered the predators on M3X-141 were intelligent and unnaturally persistent. The noise of the P90 alone should have been enough for the cat to release Sheppard and seek refuge in the jungle, but the animal had been undaunted by her intervention, only hesitating for a second before flattening its body even closer to the ground and continuing to slowly drag John away. Teyla had quickly changed strategies, firing behind the cat to block its retreat until she could secure a clear kill shot. Life in Pegasus frequently presented situations where swift and definitive action was called for, and a calm mind was often the only difference between life and death. However, seeing the colonel in such a way at this … completely helpless, hauled across the ground like a piece of dead prey, was not only extremely distressing, but also a serious test of Teyla's composure. Even when Sheppard roused enough to attempt to shoot the cat, she did not feel any great sense of relief. He clearly lacked the strength to lift his weapon, and when Teyla finally knelt down next to John and saw just how grave his condition was, she felt very close to tears. To lose him now, after overcoming every obstacle that stood in the way of rescue, would be a most terrible burden to bear.

Sheppard was on his left side, body trembling, respiration quick and shallow. Blood was flowing sluggishly from his nose, more had dried in crooked trails across his chin and throat. She briefly scanned his body and saw no other outward sign of injury, other than the right leg. And that was cause for great concern. It was a shattered, bloody mess, bent out of shape at the knee and at an even crueler angle where the thigh bone had broken. Teyla hesitated, not sure where to lay her hands without causing more hurt. Collecting herself, she gently touched his cheek, watching as his eyes slowly moved up to meet hers.

"John, you are safe now. Ronon is here too, all will be well."

In a show of enormous willpower, Sheppard gave a small smile and struggled to speak. "Hey," he whispered. "Thanks."

Teyla blinked away tears. Ronon was crouched on his haunches behind John, his expression bleak.

"You see the DHD?"

Without turning to look behind her, Teyla asked, "Is it as badly damaged as the gate?"

"Not much left of it. And the gate's dead."

The news that the DHD had not survived intact came as no great surprise given the force of the explosion, and Teyla was only too aware of the tenuous condition of the stargate. The wormhole had spluttered shut behind her a mere second after she stepped from it. A speedy return to Atlantis seemed out of the question, but the fact that Rodney had failed to dial in again filled her with more dread. If a wormhole could not be established and maintained, travel between the two gates was impossible, and that meant proper medical assistance was many hours away. Sheppard was in a state of deep shock, and the sun's heat was intolerable, quickly sapping her strength. The only shelter was under the jungle canopy, which would mean carrying John a significant distance, and at this point, she didn't think it wise to move him at all.

Before Teyla could put those thoughts into words, Sheppard tried to turn over onto his back. Both she and Ronon immediately tried to stop him by taking hold of his shoulder and hip, but that didn't prevent his injured leg shifting in two different directions at once. John's face creased in response to the intense pain, his breathing hitched, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Teyla and Ronon suddenly held an unconscious man between them, and as she looked at Ronon, his eyes locked onto hers, searching for guidance. Unaccustomed to seeing such anxiety on Ronon's face, Teyla worked to school her expression so as not to mirror his.

"Rodney will get help to us as quickly as he can. In the meantime we keep John alive." Quickly removing John's thigh holster, she took the gun from his lax fingers and placed both items behind her. "We need to roll him."

Teyla stood up and stepped across Sheppard's body, then knelt next to Ronon so she could support John's leg as they repositioned him. When she placed a hand behind his knee she felt wetness, and realised that the entire back of his trouser leg was saturated with blood. A ragged hole in the black fabric indicated where the spike had penetrated his leg, and the wound continued to bleed profusely. As she and Ronon cautiously settled Sheppard onto his back, Teyla knew she would need to pack the puncture to prevent further blood loss before she did anything else. Splinting and traction would come after that. She prayed for the strength to do it correctly, do it quickly, and for John to remain unconscious throughout the entire ordeal.

She began to undo the laces on John's boot. "I brought medical provisions, but left the pack near the gate. Could you please bring it to me, Ronon?"

**. . . . . . . .**

As was too often the case in Rodney's McKay's life, one crisis cascaded into the next, with barely enough time to take a breath in between. Rodney had dialed up '141 within a minute of realising Sheppard was about to be made into an unhappy meal by Sauna Hell wildcats. Then Ronon had demonstrated split second timing, or extremely good luck, by narrowly avoiding the kawoosh in his haste to get through the gate and back to Sheppard. Teyla had been hot on his heels, only slowing down enough to grab a pack from the medical supplies that had been moved from the jumper bay to the bottom of the control room staircase. Seconds after she entered the wormhole, and before any of the marines or medical personnel had a chance to go through behind her, a wave of static energy crackled across the event horizon.

Without any further hint of a warning, the gate abruptly shut down. Everyone in the control area turned to stare at Rodney. Mouth agape, he looked down at the computer screen in search of a clue.

Elizabeth stayed quite for all of two seconds. "Rodney?"

"Elizabeth?" Rodney could feel Weir's gaze boring into him and waited for the inevitable question.

"What just happened?"

Rodney muttered under his breath, "Magic eight ball says ask again later."

"Excuse me?

The on screen information was not at all promising. "We need an out of order sign for the other gate."

"Are you saying that Teyla and Ronon didn't make it through?"

The undisguised worry in Weir's voice had Rodney almost regretting his predilection for sarcasm. He looked up at her to explain. "The read outs indicate they both exited prior to shut down." Rodney didn't say just how much prior in Teyla's case, because he was beginning to understand that in the midst of disaster some things were better left unsaid. Others, unfortunately, could not be avoided. "But we have a big problem. The structure is unstable … the C4 probably upset the gate's bedding, knocked it off balance," he lifted a hand, bent it backwards and jiggled it. "If it moves, even fractionally, the wormhole collapses."

Elizabeth considered all this for a moment. "So we simply revert to the original plan, send a jumper through the nearest orbital gate." She said to Beckett, "Eleven hours, Carson. Will Teyla and Ronon will be able to support Colonel Sheppard successfully for that length of time?"

Elizabeth Weir, ever the diplomat, Rodney thought. No need to ask whether Sheppard would be dead before they got there ... not when words could be spun and sugar coated. Carson, however, had no need to utter a single sound. The expression on his face said it all.

**. . . . . . . .**


	7. Chapter 7

**SO NEAR, SO FAR.**

Author's note : Once again my thanks to all who have been kind enough to leave a review - I will get around to answering you all, but please know each and every comment is so very much appreciated, also inspiring and smile inducing. Thank you! Here's chapter 7, only two more after this.

**Chapter 7**

The next time Sheppard woke, it was not a gentle climb to awareness, but a sudden and savage assault to his senses. Pain was pulsing through his leg with such brutal intensity that it took a while to realise it was actually him making that sound … something that could only be described as a low, stuttering moan. His eyes wouldn't focus properly, everything was just glare and blur, and he could feel hands on his shoulders, pinning him to the ground. John resisted, tried to get away, and his breathing sped up to the point of hyperventilation, but … holy shit … whatever was happening to his leg could not be allowed to go on.

Words tumbled from his mouth, all rolling into one another, until he landed on the exact one he needed.

"Stop!"

He struggled even harder, and the weight on his shoulders increased. He kicked his left leg out, and the agony in his right leg blasted a few notches higher. His head involuntarily jerked up, slammed back down again.

A large, warm hand wrapped around John's forehead, stilling his movement. Sheppard panted and blinked, but it was virtually impossible to concentrate on anything other than the all encompassing hurt.

A familiar voice sounded in his ear, the tone reassuring. "We're fixing you up, buddy. Don't move. It'll all be good real soon."

The hovering blur slowly resolved into Ronon's face. As he leaned away, he left his hand resting on Sheppard's forehead, and that simple connection helped John regain some measure of control. He clenched his teeth together when the pain rose again, and tried to figure out exactly what was going on. Ronon said they were fixing him, and the memory of what had happened to make him feel like he'd been hit by a mack truck was close, so very close, he just couldn't seem to latch onto it.

One thing John did know with a fair amount of certainty was that Teyla was here too, he could remember her kneeling next to him sometime before. Everything was jumbled and confused, and he realised he had no clue where here was. So he started with that.

"Where are we?"

The head buzzing had dulled a little, but his voice still echoed and banged around the inside of his skull. He waited for a reply, didn't get one, and decided knowing the answer was not really that important when stacked up against the effort needed to ask again.

But images kept flashing in his mind, and he had to make sure he hadn't been dreaming. "Did I just shoot a panther?"

He still didn't get an answer. He knew he was slurring his words, couldn't seem to get his mouth working right … maybe that was why he was currently being ignored. Then Teyla's worried face appeared above him. Her voice cut in and out, "M3 … wildcats … are safe … broken."

"Can't hear you," John rasped. He tried to swallow but there wasn't a speck of moisture in his throat. Ronon's hand immediately moved to the back of his neck, helping him lift his head. A canteen nudged his bottom lip, but he only had the opportunity to take two small sips before it was quickly removed.

Lowering his head to John's ear again, Ronon said, "We just straightened your leg out, it's broken. You have to hold still while we splint it. You got that?"

A familiar kind of all-over exhaustion was setting in, and John had just enough thought processes left intact to recognise the effects of blood loss, maybe even shock. Again he searched for a reason, and suddenly, the memories came. The booby trap, his leg impaled. Sauna Hell, McKay and an explosion. But Rodney wasn't here and it wasn't all that hot anymore. Sheppard grimaced, gave one small nod to indicate he understood Ronon's instruction and would comply. From then on, time seemed to stretch and warp, jump from one point to another. Teyla and Ronon went about their work and there was pain, but nothing like before. John watched the single cloud in the sky float and slowly spin above him. When it drifted across the face of the sun, he shivered.

"John, we are moving to shelter. Ronon will carry you. Please do not try to assist in any way."

Sheppard's hearing was improving while the rest of him was falling apart. Either that, or Teyla was yelling, because this time he'd heard every word she'd said. He sucked in a sharp breath as she and Ronon sat him up, and although they'd made the shift in slow and cautious increments, his vision swum and his stomach lurched. Cold sweat broke out on his face and the shivering got a whole lot worse. When Ronon hooked his hands under John's arms to hoist him up over his shoulder, a different type of pain erupted down low in Sheppard's rib cage.

It was the last thing he was completely aware of for some time.

**. . . . . . . . . .**

Elizabeth Weir stood on the control room balcony, hands tightly gripping the railing as she willed time to move faster. A pair of jumpers had just gone through the gate to M3X-245, the planet closest to where all this had begun, only an hour or so ago. McKay and Beckett were in the first jumper, Lorne's team of four marines and two engineers manned the second. While Beckett hadn't seemed very optimistic on Sheppard's chances of surviving the blast, he'd remarked that John always liked to surprise everyone by turning up alive when he should be dead. But then he'd gone on to say that if he did somehow last the night, and an eleven hour return trip, the delay in proper treatment and surgery would drastically reduce the chances of saving John's leg.

The colonel might live, only to endure a long, painful rehabilitation that would culminate in a medical discharge, and an end to his days on Atlantis. Having grown to know John Sheppard over the past few years, Elizabeth feared the possibility of that future with a very heavy heart. Above all else, John was an air force pilot. He lived for the sky, and the adrenalin … in fact he seemed internally wired to be constantly in the thick of things. There was no denying that she and the rest of the Atlantis expedition had come to rely on him to always be there, especially in times of crisis, and expect that John would always find a way to come through for them too.

But would he make it through this time?

Elizabeth's thoughts turned to Rodney, and how he had turned progressively pastier and testier as the emergency had unfolded. When Beckett gave his prognosis for John's leg, Rodney had immediately suggested that both she and Beckett might like to consider a better option … as in fixing the gate once they landed on M3X-141. Elizabeth had been foolish enough to ask if he thought he could do that in less time than it would take to fly back. Rodney hadn't replied, just tapped his ear piece and spoke to engineers Ryan and Aquina directly, advising them they had exactly five minutes to gear up and get to the jumper bay.

Rodney seemed to be on the point of collapse himself, so Elizabeth had made sure a sandwich and water had been put down in front him not long after that. The food remained untouched on the table behind her, proving there was a first time for everything. He'd finished all the water though, speaking between gulps in that McKay patented way of talking to himself in shorthand and expecting everyone else to keep up.

It didn't take long for Elizabeth to decipher Rodney's ramblings as a list of supplies required to stabilize the gate … digging equipment, struts, pulleys, all interspersed amongst a few different theories on how to get the job done in the shortest time possible. She watched as he radioed Ryan again, repeating the list and telling her to make sure all of it was loaded into the jumper within the next five minutes as well. Rodney stopped to listen to Ryan for a few seconds, and said, "Oh, you have? Well, good." Elizabeth hid a smile behind her hand, guessing Rodney had been well and truly told that everything was already underway. Combat engineers were a well prepared and provisioned group of specialists, and Ryan and Aquina were among the best of them.

Rodney had then set his sights on Elizabeth. "The gate on '141 is still refusing to engage. That doesn't mean we should stop trying. I'm not suggesting you let anyone attempt to travel through, not unless they have a death wish, but supplies on the other hand ..."

Elizabeth smiled, nodded. If the wormhole collapsed on boxes of medical supplies, food or bottled water - it didn't matter. But if they managed to get the items through quickly enough, and they actually arrived at the other end, John's chances of surviving would be boosted enormously.

A good plan and one that almost paid off. Rodney left the control area for the jumper bay after the first few unsuccessful attempts, and it was as though the gate was waiting for him to walk away. The very next dial up worked. Supplies were hastily thrown through as Elizabeth tried to establish radio contact. Her hopes quickly shattered as the event horizon shorted at the five second mark. The gate had remained unresponsive since that time. The rescue now hinged on several uncertain elements which called for a good dose of luck, and her people's ability to get the job done.

Elizabeth had complete faith in her people, so all she could do now was wait and hope for the right outcome.

**. . . . . . . . . .**


End file.
